Jaded (6 page)

Lilya smiled sweetly. “We prefer the term
courtesan
. I’m a very
selective
courtesan to boot.” She gave him an undisguised head-to-toe.

The culture of Rylisk was very sexually free, far freer than neighboring countries. In most circles courtesans were respected, but there were always those who judged people for selling their bodies for money. Byron was sure Lilya had never thought of it as selling her
body
, really. In her mind it was probably selling companionship, an ease to unrelenting loneliness, maybe a little caring sentiment whereas her clients would have none. In Lilya’s mind she offered a therapeutic service, no doubt.

Byron had no problem with any type of courtesan. It was their choice how they used their bodies and he was not one to judge. He thought he knew Alek very well and he was surprised by Alek’s reaction to Lilya. He’d thought Alek was more open-minded than this.

“I brought her for you, Alek. To distract you a little, loosen you up a bit, maybe even free up your magick.”

“Byron, I’m not interested in being distracted or loosened up. I’m especially not interested in freeing up my magick.”

“You have a gift, Alek. It’s not right to suppress it.”

Alek’s jaw locked. “It’s not your place to say what I do with it.”

“As your best friend, it is.”

Alek stormed out of the foyer.

Lilya turned toward him with a small, tight smile on her lips. Displeasure sat in the lovely lines of her face. “I think he’s angry.”

“I knew he was going to be angry.”
But not so antagonistic.
“I can handle him. The more important question is—are you angry?”

The smile tightened a degree. “You should have told him what I was.”

He raised his eyebrows. “A beautiful, fascinating, intelligent woman?”

Her eyes grew colder and he made a note to watch himself. “You know what I mean.”

“I do, but I also think you’re beautiful, fascinating, and intelligent.”

Her pretty mouth split into a wide, warm smile, chasing away the frigid set of her lips and the displeasure in her eyes. “And I think you’re a sweet-talker.”

His stomach did another slow flip. He helped her remove her coat, and then started down one of the corridors that led away from the foyer. The carriage driver had set their bags inside the door. He’d deal with those later. “Come into the library, sit down, have something to drink.”

“What about Alek?”

“I’ve known Alek since we were both seven. He needs a little time. His natural fascination with you will win out and he’ll be talking to you by tomorrow, I’m sure. Maybe sooner.”

“Doesn’t he have a home to return to? Won’t he just leave? He seems very angry.”

He shook his head. “He’s staying here for the moment, as he often does. It’s closer to the university and his life is
only
the university.” He led her into the library.

The library was his favorite room in the house and, therefore, was the most used. It was a large arched chamber with huge windows and shelves of leather-bound books. An enormous gray stone fireplace dominated one wall. Alek had started a fire in it that crackled and snapped. Alek had also made coffee. Byron walked to the carafe, found it still hot, and poured both himself and Lilya cups and they settled into comfortable chairs. They both needed to warm up. Winter was coming upon them fast.

“Do you read a lot?” she asked, eyeing the shelves with a hungry expression on her face.

“Me? Not really. My father was the reader. Still, this is my preferred room in the house. Occasionally I can still smell the pipe he used to smoke in here.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I miss him.”

“I can see why you love this room. It’s beautiful.” She picked up a book from a nearby table and paged through it. It was a history book, undoubtedly one of Alek’s. History was his passion. Or, perhaps, more a refuge.

“Feel free to read any books you find here. My library is your library.”

She looked at the spine of the book she held. “
History of Rylisk During the Meteo-Orusian War of 1230
.” She raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “I think I might go more for some of the literary classics I missed during my nonexistent schooling.”

“That one is Alek’s.”

“He’s getting a degree in history from the University of Milzyr? He’s a little old for college, isn’t he?”

“His third degree, actually. He keeps going back for specializations.”

“I see. And you, in your high-handed way, have decided he studies too much and pays attention to his magickal abilities too little.” She set the book back down.

“Yes.” He paused. “Except without the high-handed part.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Not from where I’m sitting. Why not leave the man alone to live his life the way he sees fit?”

“Because I care about him and he’s wasting himself. He’s caught in the past, afraid to face the future. The future for Rylisk is magick and those talented few who can wield it. The future of our country lies in harnessing their abilities and setting them free, not caging them and monopolizing them for the selfishness of the royals, used like broodmares and studs.” As he spoke, he found himself leaning forward in his chair and fisting his hands. “Letting them be free in the world to use their abilities for the advantage of our nation, to teach, to procreate, to live among the rest of us without fear.”

Lilya sat staring at him for several moments without replying. “You really care deeply about this. I can hear it in your voice and see it on your face.”

“I do. I always have. I was a follower of Gregorio Vikhin before the revolution because I hated to see what the Edaeii had done to the jeweled. I know that I was only a twist of fate away from joining them. When the revolution occurred, I was thrilled, although, like Vikhin, wished it could have been accomplished with less chaos and bloodshed.”

“Idealists, the both of you. Of course there is chaos and bloodshed when the lower class throws off years of poverty and oppression.”

“What’s done is done. Three years later and it’s time to rebuild. Rebuilding our country the best we can is my primary concern. That means convincing men and women with magick as powerful as Alek’s that it’s time to shine.”

“May I ask what Alek’s magick is?”

“He’s a healer, Lilya, and I suspect a very strong one. But the magick is locked down and pocketed away. He had to keep it secret while the Edaeii were in power, but now he has no interest in developing it. Yet I don’t think it’s because he doesn’t
want
to develop it. I suspect he’s afraid of it. All he does is bury himself in history. History is safe.”

Her brow wrinkled. “But, healing? He could help so many people.”

“Yes.”
The word came out reinforced with the frustration he felt. He leaned toward her, his leather chair squeaking. “
Yes
, Lilya, he could. Yet no amount of conversation can convince him of this. Words do nothing.”

She leaned back in her chair and pressed her lips together, studying him. “I’ll be truthful, after I saw the way Alek reacted to me, I was going to tell you I was leaving. Now that you’re telling me he has powerful healing magick locked away inside him, I’m compelled to stay. I still don’t know what I can do to help Alek, but if you think there’s something, I’ll do my best.”

Relief washed through him. He stood, walked to her, and pulled her to her feet. She was much shorter than he was, the top of her head only coming up to his shoulders. He smoothed a tendril of her dark hair behind her ear. “You are the only woman I could think of who would have the effect on him he needs.”

She shook her head. “I still—”

“You can make him care about someone outside himself. The last time he did that, he was hurt very badly, but in order for his magick to be set free, he must learn to do it again.”

She let out a slow breath. “You’re giving me too much credit. I can only be who I am and do what I do.”

“That’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to do anything but be yourself and he will love you.”

She drew a deep breath. “Byron, really—”

“Hush.”

Pressing her lips together, she wrinkled her brow and looked up at him. “I think you’re insane, you know.”

“I think I’m right.”

He knew his reasoning was sound. His reason for tracking her down after all these years had ostensibly been for Alek’s benefit, but the act had been selfishly motivated at the heart of it. Six years ago when he’d found her in Milzyr, he’d fallen in love with her. Back then, fresh from an ordeal that would have broken anyone else, an ordeal that
did
break her for a time, she hadn’t been ready and hadn’t wanted a relationship with anyone. Even though he’d thought—maybe in his “high-handed” way—that a loving relationship had been exactly what she needed.

So, now, six years later, he’d thought perhaps she’d be different, more willing to enter into a serious, loving relationship with him. But, clearly, she was still the wild, independent woman she’d always been and always would be. Though under the strength she displayed to the world, he sensed vulnerability. Still, she was just a little broken.

Was he a bad man for wanting to touch that vulnerable part of her? Were his intentions dark when his goal was to make her see him as something more . . . someone to care for, maybe even someone to whom to bind her life? Maybe it was bad and dark because in a way it would be like trying to cage a beautiful, wild animal. That was never right.

And perhaps he’d been wrong. Maybe what she had endured truly had ruined her for love.

Time would tell.

 

 

Movement caught Lilya’s eye. Alek had entered the room. She already stood very near to Byron, but she took an additional step closer to his body, setting a hand on his waist. If she was going to do this, she’d really do it. She knew how. Men weren’t that hard to understand—they always wanted what they couldn’t have, or what another man had. Jealousy was a useful tool.

She studied Alek as he wavered in the doorway, looking ambushed and ready to bolt. Clearly he hadn’t realized she and Byron would be in the room. He was a scholar, so one would expect him to be pale, weak-limbed, perhaps wearing glasses. Yet, he defied that pigeonhole. Well, he was a bit pale and he did wear glasses, but that’s where it stopped. Weak-limbed he definitely was not. Byron was one of the tallest men she knew, but Alek rivaled his height. Broad shoulders melded into a leanly muscular body, hard, as if from regular and vigorous exercise. His reddish blond hair was thick and had a slight curl to it, making it look wavy and a little tousled. His face had the handsome quality that Byron’s lacked and his eyes were a deep, compelling shade of chocolate brown.

She was actually surprised that Alek was as immersed in his studies as Byron claimed. Women had to be throwing themselves at him. She’d known enough men in her life to understand that some of them were oblivious to such things, but they were rare as unicorns, mostly myth, unless they were actually interested in men instead.

Yet, from the heated look in Alek’s eyes when his gaze took her in, she figured the latter was not the case. In fact, she sensed a pent-up sexuality in him. That was good. If she was serious about seducing him, that would make it easier. She could use his attraction to her to draw him out. As a courtesan, she was definitely not above doing such things.

“Alek, come in.” Byron’s arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her up against his side.

“No.” Alek stepped back into the corridor. “I’ll go up to my room.”

“Alek,” Lilya called. “Don’t be afraid of me. I won’t try and seduce your virtue away.” There, a nice prick to his manly pride should engage him.

“I’m not
afraid
of you; I’m just not interested in talking to someone who sells her body for money.”

Byron’s voice growled out of him. “Alek, this woman is very dear to me and I didn’t bring her here to be insulted. You don’t know her story. Stop being so blindly judgmental.”

Lilya forced a smile. “At least you’re honest about your feelings.” His words pricked her a little, as comments like those always did. Such sentiments weren’t often thrown in her face and rarely so blatantly. “But I wasn’t brought here to have sex with you and Byron is not paying me. He’s an old friend and I came here at his request because I respect him and I owe him much.”

Byron’s arm tightened around her waist. “How many times do I have to say you don’t owe me anything?” he murmured. Then he said louder to Alek, “She’s my guest and you’re being abusive to her.”

Alek took a deep breath and entered the room, coming closer to them. “Why do you owe him?” A note of heavy curiosity flavored his voice. Was the scholar in him coming out?

She considered Alek. At the moment, she didn’t like him very much. However, she cared deeply for Byron and trusted his cause where his friend was concerned. Could she bear to share this story with Alek? She supposed she could, for Byron.

Lilya looked up at Byron. “You never told him the story?”

He shook his head. “Alek, do you remember the year I spent in Milzyr? I went for business just for a few months at my father’s request, then ended up staying longer. I came back only when my father died.”

“I remember.”

Lilya stepped away from Byron and motioned to the carafe. “Why don’t you share a cup of coffee with us and we can tell you all about it?”

He hesitated a moment and Lilya marshaled her tongue with effort. Deciding to reveal this story was a huge decision for her. She’d told only her closest friends at the Temple of Dreams about what had happened to her, because every time she was forced to speak the words, they opened up wounds she’d long ago forcibly closed.

Finally Alek nodded and moved toward the table where the carafe sat.

Grief already beginning to clog the back of her throat, she returned to her seat and took a fortifying sip of her cooling coffee. It had been a long time since she’d walked these dark roads of remembrance.